


A Warm Heart

by EmilyElm



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: A final feast, A snake in the garden, Everything Abel Gideon ever warned us about, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Snails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 13:03:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7685653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyElm/pseuds/EmilyElm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal reaches the height of equality with Will, but gives way to the ecstasy and delight only the fallen can find in the Garden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Warm Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the tags. Love and death co-exist below.

He has determined what is eating away at him. 

 

Resentment. 

 

Will has left him alone for several nights. He never thought it would come to this. 

 

Hannibal stares at the fire glass crystals in the backyard pit, black even in the light of the licking flames. He waits and waits for Will to get home.

 

The sliding glass door to the patio opens. 

 

Will stumbles in with a young man. A grad student. 

 

The outdoor table has already been set for them. Although the candles have long burned out.

 

As Will goes into the kitchen to retrieve the carving knife, Hannibal sets the student at ease. But the student asks, "Are you his pet?" He and Will are equals, Hannibal explains. 

 

They watch as Will sharpens the knife. The swipe of the blade against the steel is enough to make Hannibal’s mouth water in anticipation. A feast will be served. A guest of honor will be fed. They will dine together, as a family should do.

 

“We’ll serve grilled flank tonight,” Will announces. 

 

And the student watches as Hannibal lifts his shirt and slides down his cotton trousers, exposing his left side below his ribs. Will does not cut too close to the bone. But he slices enough meat for the three of them and places it on the fire. 

 

The meat sizzles and pops and Will turns it over. He knows how long to keep it on the flame so it stays bloody in the center. He offers the first piece to the student. 

 

The student takes knife and fork to his flesh. Will watches him closely. Waiting for the verdict.

 

“Well?”

 

“It’s interesting,” the student chews slowly. “I’ve eaten everything. You name it, I’ve stomached it. This is tender and sweet. It’s tasty." 

 

“As it should be. After all, we reside at the top of the food chain.“

 

“And what’s at the bottom for you?” Hannibal can’t resist asking.

 

“Beaver balls,” the student answers without hesitation. “I ate them in Canada. You’d be surprised what Canadians will serve at their table.”

 

Hannibal laughs as Will feeds him his flank by hand. The juices and blood dribble down Will’s fingers. Will doesn’t mind when Hannibal sucks on his fingers until they're clean. 

 

Will excuses himself from the table so he can tend to Hannibal’s wound. The student reaches for seconds. 

 

Hannibal takes Will by the elbow and lets himself be guided to the bench in the garden. Night jasmine blooms around them. The full moon is bright and shining. 

 

From the light of the moon, Hannibal takes in his body. A pain meds patch sits on his chest, his IV stand at his side. His backside is covered in bandages. 

 

This moves him. That Will has been eating away at him. He cradles Will’s head in his arms as Will lowers himself to tend to his side. 

 

It calms him to hear Will’s voice. Will goes on to describe his day -- the cannibalism discussion in the class that he's teaching. This particular class is always filled to capacity. The reaction to the homework assignment he gives to consume human flesh every day for the next 23 days makes Hannibal chuckle. How Will soothes them by insisting that studies have shown that new patterns can be accepted by the brain in less than a month. 

 

“You hypnotized them,” Hannibal interjects. 

 

“Maybe a little bit,” Will admits, “although they knew what they were signing up for.”

 

“Did they?”

 

They exchange a look. Will has a more than fair insight into Hannibal’s mind. Is this what he signed up for? Did he have much of a choice? Did either of them? 

 

“Is there a problem, Hannibal?”

 

“Is this how you want me, Will?” Hannibal asks. “As your amuse bouche.”

 

“I am just getting started,” Will acknowledges. 

 

“You are my beginning and my end,” Hannibal provides. They share a loving nod of acceptance between them. But Hannibal needs to be clear on something. “You hypnotized me too?”

 

“Initially. But there’s no need now. Where would you go?”

 

Hannibal glances at the fire pit. He would gladly lower himself onto it. It was inevitable for it to end this way. 

 

“Abel Gideon warned me that one day I would know what it would be like to be the meal,” Hannibal tells him, smiling. Will strokes his face. “He knew all I wanted was for you to be at my table.”

 

Hannibal feels the effect now of the painkiller that must course through his veins every four hours. His head rocks against Will’s neck. It is so quiet in the garden at night. The snails cling to the green stems of the plants, eating.

 

“Why haven’t you taken my ribs yet?” Hannibal is curious. “Or my heart?”

 

“I wanted to save the best part for last,” Will explains. 

 

Will’s neck is wet. The tip of Hannibal’s nose tickles from the puddle. He raises his head and realizes he’s been crying. 

 

If Will can eat him, then he can give him this one last thing. And he will beg for it. 

 

“I don’t want to wait anymore, Will,” Hannibal realizes. “Let me have this one thing and then take of me what you will.” 

 

He reaches for Will’s belt. He doesn’t have a lot of strength left, but he can manage this. He manages to stroke Will to hardness. 

 

Will looks over his shoulder. The student is restless, but is not looking over at them. He puts his hand on Hannibal’s chest, cupping his heart. 

 

“He’ll hear us,” Will warns.

 

“Let him,” Hannibal dismisses it and sinks down onto Will. He wraps his hand around Will’s base, so he can’t flag but have him remain in place. He has to see this through until the finish. Will takes all the other aches away. Hannibal may not be able to get hard, the painkiller he’s on won’t let him, but he needs this, he wants to feel Will inside of him. 

 

Will strokes his neck. Their faces are inches apart. There is no one else. 

 

Hannibal’s face crumbles. It feels like his heart is giving way, getting ripped out of him, his pulse is racing, erratic now. Will feels it too.

 

“No, Hannibal,” he cries out, “not yet.”

 

Will rips off the bandage and reaches inside of him, coursing his hand up until he can massage Hannibal’s heart. It syncs up again and Hannibal’s eyes roll from the back of his head, fluttering open. Will continues to massage and Hannibal continues to ride him until he finds his rhythm. 

 

Will comes. Hannibal can feel it pool into the cushion as Will lays him on his side. His hair pillows around him. He looks at the stars above and Will's beautiful face floats into view. He closes his eyes. 

 

The student approaches, concerned. Hastily, Will loops his belt into place. He covers a blanket over Hannibal. 

 

“Is he alright?” the student motions at the still figure. 

 

The smile on Hannibal’s face is frozen. He looks content and the wind sweeps his hair back. 

 

“He’s resting,” Will explains. 

 

He exchanges a look with the student. The smell of flesh hangs in the air. It is a beautiful night. 

 

“Have you had heart before?” Will asks. “I think it will still be warm if I prepare it now.”

 

The student nods. He, too, is very beautiful. Remarkable in his acceptance, in the way he holds Will’s gaze. Seeing him the way Hannibal did. In the garden, a clean slate has been born. He could be a younger version of Hannibal. “I would like that.”


End file.
